Casey vs the Greater Good
by Beckster1213
Summary: Casey acts on Graham's order to terminate Chuck (S2 E1)


A/N: My first FanFic. A special thanks to Zettel for inspiring the idea as well as beta reading.

I am not sure if I read this idea elsewhere, but the idea has stuck with me. If it was your idea, my apologies for not giving credit.

Summary: Casey acts on Graham's order to terminate Chuck (S2 E1)

I do not own Chuck.

Casey vs The Greater Good

1958 Hours

A soft grunt escapes my mouth as I gently tug on the handle. No surprise, the Morgan door was unlocked. Despite our constant warnings, Chuck never locks it. **_We always warned him a killer could walk right in._** The first step into the bedroom is tricky, as it is difficult to stay silent stepping down on a hardwood floor from 2 feet up. Right foot first, not the slightest sound, the result of 30 years of serving the greater good.

I pull the silenced Sig from my waistband. This is a throwaway gun. No serial number, no trace. I could never use one of my girls to commit this…this… sacrilege.

The bedroom door is open. A quick survey of the bedroom shows nothing out of place. The faint smell of Chuck's cologne lingers in the air. One small step in front of the other as I approach the bedroom door. I slowly lean my head out of the doorway, checking both ways to make sure that the hallway is clear.

One small step in front of the other as I maneuver down the hallway towards the kitchen. The food smells wonderful. Must be something Ellie taught him to make. The slightest misstep can make this go very badly. **_If I do this right, he will never know I was here. _**A few feet up ahead is the bathroom. I can see him. He is setting the table, making plans. Lost in his own world. **_Candles, wine, lady feelings. Yuck. The kid's a goner._**

One small step in front of the other. No sound from my feet. He is speaking, more like rambling. **_Good, it will help mask my approach._** I can't make out what he is saying, but it sounds like he is rehearsing. Another step. Slowly, patiently. Slower. Take your time. No Rush. Another step.

SQUEAK! A loose floorboard. Quick step into the bathroom. He heard it, reacted, but didn't investigate. I can hear him now, still rehearsing. He is going to ask Walker on vacation. Poor moron has it bad. _**I am doing my duty. I am serving the greater good.**_

9 Hours ago

"Die with honor." Those words are echoing through my mind. I have known many men who died in combat, paying the ultimate price for their country. Men who knew the risk, and gladly accepted it to defend the free world from tyranny and oppression. Men who "served with honor" and "died with honor." But they always did so by choice.

Honorably.

To die with honor is to die in service to a cause worthy of honor. To use your last breath defending a cause much larger than you are. Ordering Bartowski's termination is not honorable, it is shameful.

Chuck is a victim. He did not ask for the burden he received. Nevertheless, he took on the responsibility and with the most courage I have seen, has continually risked his life to protect others. He has "served with honor," despite not being trained or prepared for his service. The gratitude he will receive from his country is a visit from an assassin. Me.

Bravery. Courage. Integrity. Honor. Duty.

I used to know what those words meant. I used to live them as they were defined for me. I used to go to bed knowing that what I was doing was right and serving those principles with class and dignity. That is the problem. The words were defined FOR me.

It is time to redefine those terms. More accurately, Chuck has showed me how to redefine them. Morally just is not separable from integrity, honor, or duty. Those terms need to be defined within the same context, in relation to each other. Completing your duty honorably only works if the actions used are honorable. The actions must be morally just in order to preserve the honor with which we defend our principles.

Greater Good. Graham speaks of the greater good as if he knows what that means. What does it mean? How would he know?

Graham and Beckman want the most valuable asset in the country assassinated, simply because his existence has become inconvenient. Worse, they want ME to assassinate the most virtuous man I have ever known. Is that for the greater good? How can it be?

They want the Intersect in Chuck destroyed. Understandable. It contains all of our nation's secrets and is about to become obsolete. Replaced with a newer version of potentially more value. The new version could send us even further ahead of our enemies. Couldn't it?

The Intersect is not Chuck. Chuck is not the Intersect. They are two separate entities. But they work best in harmony. We have only accomplished what we have because Chuck is able to make sense of the data. I am being ordered to "erase the data" in the Intersect, not Chuck. Is that how they view it? Can I view it that way?

I have always done my duty. Trusted in the greater good as was defined for me. Lives saved, enemies defeated, nation secure. Chuck is not a threat, but the knowledge he was infected with is. The two are currently inseparable. Can I separate killing Chuck from killing the Intersect? I am not killing Chuck, I am killing the Intersect. His curse which can destroy our country if he were captured.

I have always done my duty. I break things, I don't fix them. I break them when ordered to. I break them when duty demands it. I always follow orders. When did I start questioning my orders? Pita Girl. Bunker. Longshore. Damn Bartowski.

Walker will know it was me. No way I can hide that. When we took this assignment, we both knew this day could come. She is the best. The Ice Queen. Why did I get the order instead of her?

Simple. They worry she won't follow it. They worry she is compromised to some degree (if they only knew how compromised she is). They believe me to be unquestioning of my orders. That I will complete my duty regardless of personal feelings. They no longer have the same faith in Walker.

Will she understand I was only following orders? Will she seek revenge? She already kicked my ass at the Weinerlicious once. Will I have to terminate her also? Not likely – she would most likely kill me instead, if I am honest. Am I willing to commit suicide to carry out the order? If I can kill her before she kills me, am I willing to kill my partner, especially one I trust?

No. This is not duty for the greater good. This would be a duty for political expediency. This order is neither honorable nor morally just. It is murder. Of an American Civilian – an American Hero. Graham is tying up a loose end HIS CIA created, and using me as the cleaner. He is the driving force behind the order. Beckman simply doesn't have the power to refuse.

Keeping Bartowski alive is defending the greater good. The morally principled, morally just greater good. He embodies the very principles I sacrificed my future to defend. Although I may have forgotten, he has helped me to remember. Choosing between destroying the Intersect in Chuck's head, and protecting Chuck is an easy one in the end.

Chuck will not die by my hand.

What options do I have? Help him disappear? Fake his death? Defy the order and refuse? Defend Chuck against whoever they send in my place?

I have the two blank identities. Would Chuck be willing to leave his family behind? Chuck would need protection. Is Walker compromised enough to run with the moron? Could I bring Walker into this idea, or surprise them with it? If they go, they will always be on the run. If they run, Graham and Beckman will know I told them.

Faking his death has the same problems. If he is ever discovered, all of our lives are over, both personally and professionally.

Refuse the order. I have never refused an order. But now is the time to start. Walker would need to be told of the kill order. Only chance to defend Chuck would be with her help. But even then, Graham will not stop until Bartowski is dead.

None of these options work. All involve too many variables and too much risk. Not to mention, every single one of them leads back to me.

Could I somehow prevent the new Intersect from going online? That would be the best option. If the new Intersect fails to work, Chuck is still needed. He would be kept in indentured servitude, but he would be alive. Poor kid was looking forward to having his mediocre life back.

The team would stay together.

The courier will be arriving at 1300 to pick up the cipher. The new Intersect will be coming online around 2000. Once the cipher reaches Graham, it is lights out for Bartowski.

The cipher.

I shift my gaze to the left-hand side of the desk. Through the cigar smoke, and in front of my favorite picture of Ronald Reagan, is the cipher just recovered for the second time from Colt. The metallic glimmer and boxy shape give it a look of impending doom, a powerful talisman.

Would they test it before they use it? Not likely. Graham is in too big of a hurry to regain control of the intersect and eliminate Bartowski.

How long would it take them to rebuild the Intersect?

Can I make this look like an accident? Can I make this look like sabotage?

Can I make it look like a terrorist attack? Can I frame Fulcrum?

I unscrew the outer shell and carefully remove it. Once I can see inside, I realize that the electrical components are very rudimentary. Much simpler than I had imagined for a device as powerful as it is. Very quickly, I get the idea of rewiring it to throw a surge of electricity back through the system and completely fry all the electrical components of the new Intersect. I may not have Bartowski's gift with electronics, but I can manage this.

It took them almost a year to build the new Intersect, it would take them months to repair all of the damage. This would buy the kid, and the team time. Once the kill order came down, we would know how Graham plans to clean up this operation.

Bartowski would be safe (from me at least), the team would stay together. No one would know what happened but me.

Graham and Beckman are expecting me to terminate Bartowski at the same time as the new Intersect goes online. Cruel irony. Courier picks it up at 1300. One hour to airport, 4-hour flight, 1-hour transport to Langley - that puts the Cipher on Grahams desk at about 1900.

Walker is coming over at 2000 hours. I need to appear to be carrying out the order. 2 minutes before her arrival, I can sneak in through the "Moron door" and look as if I am carrying out my orders. If the sabotage works, Walker will be delivering the message, and I will be on the surveillance footage appearing to follow orders.

If it doesn't work, I will have to improvise.

The Cipher had been in Fulcrum hands for over 24 hours before we recovered it on the rooftop. No one would suspect me. No one would know but me.

No need to involve anyone else. No one dies. No one is assassinated.

The greater good, the morally just greater good, will be rightfully served.

1258 Hours

A knock on the door. The courier is 2 minutes early. I unplug the cipher from my computer and carry it in my left hand, my favorite pistol in my right. I check the security feed to ensure it is the courier. I will not be surprised this time.

I set the cipher down on the table and reach for the doorknob. I swing the door open, "Verification code?"

"Evening Honor," the courier replies. Grunt. Fitting.

I hand him the cipher, close the door, and return to my desk. I pick up the tumbler of scotch and take a large gulp. At best, I just committed treason. At worst, I just signed my own death warrant. Actually, death would be better. Honorable.

Now, I wait.

2000 Hours

DING DONG

**_She's right on time. I wouldn't expect anything less from her._** I creep closer and lean against the wall around the corner. Chuck walks to the front door, pausing for a second to wipe his hands on his pants. The kid is nervous. **_If he only knew what fate had in store for him._** He opens the door, and Walker is standing there. Plain clothes, looking somber. Certainly not dressed like she was for her date with him the other night. Good, she must have bad news for him.

"Sarah."

"Chuck…."

"What is it?"

"We have to call off the date. The Intersect was destroyed."

"What? But the Cipher…"

"It was a Trojan Horse, a sabotaged device. The moment it came online it exploded."

I quickly move back down the hall and sneak back through Chuck's room, out the Morgan door. I put the gun back under my waistband and turn left to hide behind the bushes. Now another waiting game. I need to wait until Walker leaves before I can cross the courtyard.

She turns around and begins to walk away. She makes it about 5 steps, and I hear Bartowski's door close. Her pace slows and her shoulders slump. **_Yup, she's compromised. Seriously._**

I wait for about a minute after she disappears around the corner. I stand up, chin high and shoulders back, and make my way across the courtyard, and back to my apartment.

2015 Hours

The match scraped along the striker, instantly glowing bright orange. I slowly roll the cigar against the flame to ensure it is evenly lit. With a flick of the wrist, the match is extinguished then placed into the ashtray, the lingering scent of sulfur in the air. I reach out with my left hand and grab the tumbler of my favorite scotch and lean back against the couch.

Graham is dead. Six additional agents killed in the explosion.

Explosion. Oops.

Smug bastard had it coming to him. He was going to create a small army of Intersects that answer only to him. Knowing Graham, he picked agents of the soulless variety like Larkin. Six pretty boys that lacked patriotism or any understanding of the greater good. Selfish, egotistical robots who don't understand the first thing about sacrifice or honor.

Bartowski is worth a hundred Larkins.

Graham tried to manipulate me by convincing me that Bartowski deserved to die honorably. He had no clue what honor was. That coward hid behind words of whose meaning he didn't have the vaguest idea.

How does it feel to 'die with honor', Graham?

NSA 1 – CIA 0.

Staring at my picture of Reagan, as the scotch swirls around the tumbler, the quiet wisp of the cigar burning, a small slanted smile and satisfactory grunt escape my mouth. Reveling in a feeling of moral certainty that I haven't experienced since I was on active duty, I can only wonder what Graham's face looked like as he read the final message I left for him.

FULCRUM THANKS YOU.


End file.
